Forever and Always
by Foxbracken - Phoenix Everren
Summary: With Aaron and Victoria still on the loose, Amelia knows things will only get worse. But with her injuries holding her back from much needed training, she is forced to look at past faults to discover the causes of present rifts; while doing so finding out the truth of why she was abandoned. "You promise we'll be friends forever?" "Forever and always." Sequel to N.A.w.i.S.t.B.
1. Chapter 1

Amelia coughed, shaking as the dust settled. "C-Chris," she rasped, cracking open her eyes to pitch blackness.

"I'm here," came the groan and she felt his hand press into hers, and she weakly curled her fingers around it, her right arm wrapped around her chest. Slowly, her blue eyes adjusted and Amelia realized they were still under the table, but the only way out was blocked by debris. Amelia shuddered and felt tears stream down her cheeks, leaving trails in the dust. "Shh," Chris rasped, pushing himself to her and wrapping his arms around Amelia. "We… we'll be… saved." Amelia whimpered and pressed against him.

"Я ... Я так ... испугался ..." Amelia whimpered, struggling to breath from the lack of air and the thick dirt, a hacking cough escaping her lungs.

She felt Chris gently squeeze her hand. "Я тоже… только держись." Amelia slipped her right hand away and glanced down, stiffening as she saw her hand and arm dark and sticky with blood.

"У нас есть, чтобы выбраться из здесь," Amelia gasped, shuddering as pain coursed from her deep gashes.

"Are you bleeding?!" Chris demanded, and she heard the tearing of cloth as he pressed it to her side.

Amelia nodded weakly, her head on his shoulder. "Help," she called, her cry muffled by the rocks, but she faintly heard people moving around beyond the barrier.

"Help us!" Both teenagers cried again, Amelia coughing once more, but with blood. With a shaking hand, she covered her mouth, her left still clutching Chris's. They kept calling… but no one could hear them. Whimpering, Amelia closed her eyes and slumped against Chris, still bleeding.

"Мне очень жаль, Крис…" She choked out, squeezing his hand tighter. "I'm so sorry…"

She heard Chris hold back a sob as he rasped, "Hush, Amelia. It's not your fault. Please, hold on. Hold on for me, please. We're going to get out of this, I swear." Amelia rolled her eyes up and smiled faintly.

"Don't promise those things," she whispered softly. "Especially don't promise something like that to me."

She felt Chris squeeze her hand tighter. "What do you mean by that?" Slowly, Amelia told him what happened since she left the orphanage, pausing only to struggle for breath. Thankfully, Chris didn't try to pull away in disgust or get angry at her. "I'm sorry I couldn't help," he croaked.

"Don't be," Amelia whispered softly. Chris tried to move his right leg but grunted in pain. Wincing, Amelia raised her head and held back a gasp when she faintly saw his leg pinned by debris. "I would… free your leg… but it…"

"I understand," he rasped. "Just stay here with me." Amelia leaned her head back to his chest, closing her blue eyes.

"I'm going to be… so mad if… I get a fear of… being in buildings," she wheezed jokingly, and heard Chris give a faint chuckle. Amelia coughed again, feeling her body weakening as she lost blood and oxygen, her mind going fuzzy. "Мне так жаль…" She whispered, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

Chris's heart caught in his mouth as tears fell as well from his gray eyes. "Don't leave me, Amelia! Please don't leave me." But Amelia gave a soft sigh, drifting into unconsciousness caused from the lack of oxygen and loosing blood; and it wasn't too long after that Chris also lost consciousness.

Faintly, Amelia heard shouting and blinding light filled their shelter. She then felt herself being lifted out from the table, her hand slipping from Chris's as she was taken away. Amelia then felt herself being rested onto something comfortable and lifted once more on the bed, being pushed into something and hearing doors lock close. She also heard crying next to her, but it sounded distant, and she felt whatever she was in take-off, hearing sirens distantly as a gentle, shaking hand took hers.

**Я ... Я так ... испугался ... = I ... I'm so ... scared ...**

Я тоже… только держись. = I too ... just hold on.

У нас есть, чтобы выбраться из здесь. = We have to get out of here.

Мне очень жаль, Крис… = I'm sorry, Chris ...

Мне так жаль… = I'm so sorry ...

**THIS IS THE SEQUEL! :DDDDDDDDD **

**Anon that review in Not Always what it Seems to Be: LKERUGPW38B;3 Thank you so much for reviewing! :'DDDDDDDDDDDD**

**And yes, I am going to explain why Clint and Natasha left her at the orphanage! :D I'm so glad you liked the first "book"! **


	2. Chapter 2

Amelia's blue eyes weakly fluttered open, and it took her a few moments to push aside the blurriness. Slowly focusing, she saw Clint pacing the room as her mother sat hunched in a chair, both clearing worried. "Я жив…" she choked out and her parents rushed over to her. "Сделал… кого-то… умереть?"

"There were no fatalities," Natasha whispered, gripping Amelia's hand as Clint took the other. "The only ones injured were you and your friend." Amelia closed her eyes again.

"Is… he okay?"

"He is," Clint assured. "He got you both out by yelling." Gently, her father squeezed her shoulder and Amelia relaxed, feeling better that Chris was alive and no one was killed.

"We'll be back soon," her mother whispered and stood, her parents reluctantly leaving to give Amelia time to rest. Opening her eyes slightly, she spotted them being greeted by Fury outside the window and sighed softly, closing her eyes once more.

A few days later, Amelia was feeling better. Her side still hurt from where she was gashed by debris, but other than that she was more awake and lively. Her parents were talking to Fury to see if there was a way for her to get back to S.H.I.E.L.D. to heal, since it would be much safer, but it was a long process. Sighing in boredom, she slumped down on the bed.

Amelia sat up as someone entered her room, and blinked in surprise when she saw Chris being wheeled in by a nurse, who then left them alone. "Chris, how are you doing?"

"Better then you," he replied, concern darkening his gray gaze. "I had some bruises and scrapes, and my leg was broken, but nothing else."

Amelia snorted. "I have the same as you but instead of a broken leg, I got gashes and bruised ribs again." She sighed and chirped, "But the good news is that we were the only ones wounded and no one was killed." Chris raised an eyebrow and she defended, "Hey, it would be a lot better if we got out scot-free as well, but at least we weren't killed!"

Chris raised his hands and replied, "You're right, that is good nothing else terrible happened." He wheeled himself over to the bed and inquired, "How are you feeling?"

"Extremely sore but better," Amelia grunted and gave a wry grin. "Mind you, I've been through worse."

"True," Chris muttered. "I still can't believe you're alive after all of that."

Amelia snorted. "Ah, thanks for the support. I get told that a lot. Wait, why do you get to wheel around when I can't?" Chris shrugged and the nurse poked her head in.

"Time to leave, dear," she told Chris. "Amelia needs to rest." Chris glanced at Amelia reluctantly before wheeling back away from the bed and turning awkwardly, leaving.

"But I'm not tired," Amelia protested, but the nurse ignored her and shut the door once Chris left. Sighing, Amelia slumped down again, staring up at the ceiling. Sighing, she closed her eyes and let her body relax.

Later that day, Amelia was toying around with the sheets, obviously fed up. When a nurse came in to check on her, Amelia asked, "Can I have a pen or pencil and some paper?"

The nurse looked horrified. "No, you can't, dear. You could stab yourself with the writing utensil."

Amelia's eye twitched in exasperation, so she asked, "Can I have a book to read?" The nurse turned and left the room, the girl sighing loudly and shaking her head. "This is a terrible hospital," she grumbled. Finally, the nurse came back and handed Amelia a small book. "What?! This is a children's book! I've read this a ton of times when I was little! Don't you have something else?"

"Sorry, dear," the nurse replied, sounding irritated. "But that's the only thing we have for children." Amelia's jaw dropped and the nurse left the room. Restraining herself from chucking the book across the room, she placed it on the small table next to the bed and buried her head in her hands, groaning loudly in exasperation.

The next day, her mother came back to the hospital to check on her daughter, her husband still discussing options with Fury to get Amelia out. Amelia twiddled her thumbs, humming softly as her eyes jumped around the hospital room. Just then, Natasha stepped inside and stopped when she saw her daughter acting a little… crazy. "Are you alright?"

"No, I am not," Amelia cried, sitting up and planting her hands on her legs. "I am going to go crazy without anything to do! I mean, look at the book they gave me to read! I tried to tell them I've read that, like, a million times when I was little, but would they listen to me? No, they just ignored me. When I asked for a pen or pencil and paper, they wouldn't give it to me because 'I could stab myself with the writing utensil' and they wouldn't give me paper because I had nothing to write with. Yet, they will give me a plastic knife to cut my food, and plastic knives can do a lot more damage. And it's not like I flail around the pen or pencil!" She gulped in a deep breath and slid down into the bed with a huff. "At least at the other hospital, they gave me a crossword puzzle to do! There were a ton of words to find and it was long, so it kept me busy!"

Natasha laughed and sat down on the bed next to her daughter. "Clint is trying to get you out as fast as he can." Amelia nodded, staring up at the ceiling.

"Good," she grumbled. "I need to get out of here. Oh, wanna know what else? They are letting Chris wheel around the hospital in a wheelchair, but they won't let me leave my room unless I need to use the restroom!" Natasha patted her daughter's arm sympathetically.

"I'll bring you something to do the next time I come," she promised and Amelia grinned.

"Thank you!"

**Я жив... = I'm alive...**

Сделал… кого-то… умереть? = Did... someone... die?


	3. Chapter 3

Amelia cracked open an eye when she felt someone gently shaking her shoulder, and blinked her eyes open at her father. "Hey, dad; long time no see," she murmured drowsily, slowly sitting up and yawning.

"Are you ready to go back to S.H.I.E.L.D.?" That woke Amelia right up. She sat up straighter and glanced up at Clint.

"Are you serious? I can go back?"

Clint smiled and ruffled her hair. "Sure can, Fury convinced the staff to release you."

Amelia grinned but then stated, "That's great and all, but I don't want to leave this room in a hospital gown, thank you." Slinging a bag off of his shoulder, Clint rested it on her bed.

"There are some of your clothes," he replied. Amelia slid off the bed gingerly, ignoring the pain from her chest, and grabbed the bag, heading out of the room to change in the bathroom.

As she headed across the hallway back to her room, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, the bag slung over a shoulder, stopped when she heard someone calling her name. Turning, she smiled and waved to Chris. "Hey, what's up?"

"The ceiling," he smirked, wheeling over to her. "Are you already going home?"

"More like to a different hospital," Amelia explained, and Chris nodded, understanding what she meant.

"Alright, get better," he replied.

"You too," Amelia spoke and grinned. "Hey, for once I'm taller than you."

Chris smirked, "Sorry, but that doesn't count since I'm technically sitting down." Amelia stuck her tongue out at him teasingly and watched him wheel back to his room before heading back to hers and to her father.

As the plane landed on S.H.I.E.L.D., which was a ship for now, Amelia was slightly pale and tense, but not as bad as before, shakily rising from her seat. "Glad to be back," she rasped, wincing from the pain.

"Are you alright?" Clint inquired, glancing at his daughter worriedly.

Amelia smiled up at him. "I'm fine, but I still hurt. Not fully healed. I just realized I have had to training at all." She sighed as she followed her father off of the plane. "I really need training, but I can't for a while once more." Clint chuckled and she protested, "It's true! Well, at least my parents are great instructors."

Once inside, Natasha rushed over, smiling. "How are you feeling?"

"Better but I still hurt," Amelia replied. "Thank you for getting me out of there."

"Anytime," her mother replied, and walked along with her daughter and husband. "How was the flight?"

"The flight was well," Clint said. "And Amelia didn't act up as much."

"Yup," she chirped. "It wasn't as bad, but it still freaks me out."

"Good to hear," Natasha smiled at them. "Oh yes, Bruce wants to make sure your wounds aren't infected, Amelia."

"Okay!"

A few days later, Amelia sat on her bed, bored. Her mother insisted that she stayed in her room resting so her wounds would heal and nothing would be strained. Sighing, Amelia headed into her bathroom and rolled up the side of her shirt, holding it in her teeth as she unwrapped the bandage around her chest and peered at the gashes, pleased to see that they were scabbed over and weren't infected. She then rewrapped the bandage and released her shirt. Glancing up at the air vent, she smirked. Pulling herself up onto the bathroom counter, she pulled down the air vent, which was poorly put in, and heaved herself inside. "Time for some exploration," she muttered and crawled along.

Amelia crawled along in the air vent, stopping when she heard voices coming from the gym. Crawling along, she stopped and peered down, seeing her mother training with Agent Hill. Relaxing, she watched the two women fight, and she felt nervous for when it was her time to train with Natasha, knowing she would be proven how terrible her skills were.

"Why did you leave Amelia at the orphanage?" Amelia froze, breath catching in her throat as Hill asked the question, and for a moment Natasha stayed silent.

"It was for her safety," she slowly explained, still boxing with the agent. "Right after she was born, we were sent on a mission, and we knew we wouldn't be back anytime soon. We didn't tell any of you because it wouldn't be good to raise a child here. But when we found out Aaron was still out there, we couldn't go back to claim her for her safety. We never planned on having a child."

Hill dodged a blow and added, "And you thought she was going to hold you back?" The only reply was ashamed silence from Natasha. Amelia held back a strangled gasp and slid back, turning quickly and crawling off to get back to her room, tears blurring her gaze. _I was a mistake…_

Once back in her room, Amelia paced around, holding back her tears. Angrily, she stalked to the window and ripped down the black cover off, glaring out into the ocean. _Never wanted. I was a mistake._ Those two sentences bounced around in her head and she balled the cloth, tossing it across the room angrily, choking back a sob.

She froze when she heard a knock on the door and a soft voice call her name. When Amelia didn't answer, the door cracked open and she turned to Natasha, eyes narrowed. "Amelia, what's wrong?"

Amelia turned her head away, shoulders shaking. "Oh, come to talk to your mistake, I see."

"What makes you say that?" Natasha asked, voice sharp from surprise and slight anger.

She wheeled around to face the spy, hurt and angry. "I heard what you said to Agent Hill," she snapped. "You can't keep me in this room forever. I wondered why you were always insistent to keep me in here, and I believed it was because you were worried I was still injured, but that was a lie. You couldn't bear looking at your mistake all day!" Amelia was aware she was probably being too irrational and angry, traits she received from Clint, but she was hurt.

Natasha stared at her, startled. "You know that's not true. Yes, we weren't planning on having you, but that doesn't mean you're a mistake."

Amelia sat down at the foot of her bed, shaking. "How can I be sure that's the truth?" She cried shakily, burying her head in her hands. "You don't know what happened to me, and if…" she shook as she started to cry, Natasha sitting down next to her and wrapping her arms around Amelia. "I know they told you that I always denied you and Clint were my parents, and they're right! I denied it because I thought you left me at the orphanage because you knew I was going to get in the way and fail you! Frederick and Victoria were always there for me, and look what happened! Frederick died and Victoria changed. When I was proven that you were my mother and Clint was my father, I was afraid. I was called a spy, but it was never a compliment, and I was deemed an assassin when Frederick died because I made him tea the day before he fell ill."

Her body shook as she started sobbing; her wall that she had built from everything that had gone wrong broke down. When Amelia was broken, she never truly healed; in fact she never healed at all. It was all an act that she put up, holding back the broken pieces. "I can't even trust what I feel anymore. How can I trust that I was never a mistake?"

"If I believed you were a mistake, do you think I would care about you? Or that Clint would care about you?" Amelia stayed silent but continued to break down, allowing her mother to comfort her. Perhaps Amelia would finally be able to pull away from her hurt and keep moving along.


	4. Chapter 4

A few days later, Amelia was given the all clear to start her much needed training. Thankfully, Natasha promised to keep Amelia's breakdown between them alone, so no one else knew. Amelia headed toward the gym for archery practice, slightly nervous since she hadn't done archery for a while, and she was going against the archer. "Good luck," she heard someone call and glanced behind her, smiling when she saw her mother.

"Thanks," Amelia laughed, "I'll need it." Natasha laughed as well before disappearing and Amelia headed into the gym.

Clint was already waiting for her, his bow in hand and quiver slung over his shoulder, two targets set up for them to use. "There you are." He turned his head to glance at his daughter. "I didn't think you would show up."

"Haha," Amelia smirked, sticking out her tongue. "Of course I would come." Clint smiled and nodded toward the side. "Over there is a bow and a quiver ready for you." She turned and headed over to the table, picking up the quiver and slinging it over her shoulder, grabbing the bow and heading back over to her father. "Okay, I'm going to tell you now that I'm way out of practice, so don't freak out." Clint laughed and Amelia pulled an arrow out of the quiver carefully, knocking it into place on the string. Taking a deep breath, she gently gripped the back of the arrow between her fingers, turning to the side slightly and drawing back the string, closing an eye as she stared at the target. Taking a deep breath to calm herself; Amelia counted slowly to thirty before releasing the arrow. She watched as it sailed through the air and hit the target, the tip breaking through the Styrofoam in the bull's eye, a little to the side in the yellow ring.

She grinned and spun to her father. "Normally I would say 'beat that', but I won't 'cause I know you will." Clint smiled and raised his bow, pulling the string back. Quickly Amelia saw how fluid the movement was and watched in amazement as he released the arrow and sent it flying, the arrow hitting the target dead in the middle. Amelia turned back to her target and notched another arrow, repeating the process as she released it, the arrow hitting the black line that separated the yellow/gold from the red. "That sucked…"

After a few more rounds and being beaten by her father, especially when Clint turned when they both heard something at the door and fired an arrow into another arrow in the bull's eye without looking, Amelia was carefully pulling the arrows free, making sure to stand on the side to keep from stabbing herself in the stomach. **(A/N: That is true. When pulling an arrow free, stand to the side of the arrow. If you stand behind it and jerk it loose, it can and will stab you. In fact, archery is one of the most dangerous sports mainly because of that.)** "You did great," Clint commented as Amelia tugged the last arrow free.

"Thanks," she replied, grinning. "I thought I was going to do a lot worse."

"Don't doubt yourself like that," her father warned and walked with her to put the bows and arrows away.

Later that night, Amelia woke up suddenly, sitting up in bed. It was still dark out, so it took a while for her eyes to adjust. Suddenly, she slung her legs over the side of the bed, removing the blankets. She stood and stretched, heading to her door and silently opening it, closing it behind her when she entered the dark hallway. Silently, she crept along, taking extra precaution when passing her parents' bedroom, and headed toward the exit.

Carefully opening the door, she walked out onto the runway; suddenly wising she put on shoes and a jacket, the frosty air biting her skin. Amelia sighed, breath billowing slightly as she gazed around, hearing the ocean lap at the ship. Frowning, she tipped her head, confused on why she got up and left her warm room to go outside in the cold. "Hello, Амелия," a voice hissed behind her but before she could react, she felt something spark at the back of her neck and she crumbled, unconscious.

Jolting up in bed, Amelia swung her head around and relaxed when she realized she was still in her room, and the experience was just a dream. Sighing, she sat up slowly, and flinched when she felt a sting on the back of her neck. Rubbing her fingers along the place of the pain, she pulled them back but saw nothing, so she headed to the bathroom. Flicking on the light, she turned to the mirror and lifted up her hair, glancing back. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw a small burn on the back of her neck where Aaron had touched her in her dream. Letting her hair fall, Amelia staggered out, turning off the lights. "Это не хорошо," she muttered, gazing out the window and seeing the sun slowly rise above the ocean, turning the sky reddish pink. "Давайте посмотрим, как хорошо я могу скрывать, что."

**Амелия = Amelia**

Это не хорошо. = This is not good.

Давайте посмотрим, как хорошо я могу скрывать, что. = Let's see how well I can hide that.

**And thank you, PJ-NCIS-TF-26!**


	5. Chapter 5

Amelia staggered back to her bed and crawled under the blankets, tucking herself tightly in them as if to protect herself. Sighing, she gazed out the window, knowing today she had to rest, since yesterday she was pushing herself even though she was given the all clear. Amelia gazed around her room to see if there were any places Aaron could use to break in, but that only meant the air vent, window, and door. She crossed out the window, considering it was not broken, crossed out the door since only she and a few others knew that the door creaked if you didn't open it right, and then crossed out the air vent when she remember that the vents outside were bolted securely down.

Closing her blue eyes, Amelia started to wonder why Aaron was so… obsessed, about destroying the Avengers. Sitting up, Amelia gazed around again. "Maybe…" Sliding back out of bed, she crept over to the closet and pulled back the door, pushing aside her clothes as she searched for something that could help her understand. She stopped when she felt an uneven bump in the wall of the closet, and ran her hand over it. Realizing it was a small door or something; Amelia felt along the sides until she gripped it with her fingers and pulled back. Peering inside the drawer, Amelia grinned when she saw an S.H.I.E.L.D. information pad. Pulling it out, Amelia closed the drawer and the closet, heading back to her bed.

Turning it on, Amelia gazed at all the files before tapping onto one in the corner. As it opened, Amelia grinned when she realized she clicked on the past records of Aaron. "Let's see what we have here," she muttered and browsed through his history, seeing he had a normal childhood until brought into some lab… she scowled suddenly. "And his powers were received the same way almost like everyone else's," Amelia growled dryly, but kept browsing. Slowly, a frown started to appear as she read on, seeing that Aaron was in Budapest, learning under a different person. Continuing on, Amelia found out the man he was learning from was killed in Budapest and Aaron blamed it on S.H.I.E.L.D., even though his mentor was killed by falling debris from a building.

"That's why he is after us," she mumbled, scrolling down but finding no more useful information. There was a knock on the door and Amelia jumped, quickly shutting down the pad and stuffing it under her pillow. "Yes?"

"Are you coming to breakfast?" Called her father and Amelia winced, forgetting that even though she had the day off, she still had to show herself.

"Yeah, I'm coming," she replied and hauled herself out of bed.

As she was leaving to go back to her room, Amelia reached behind her back to tighten the makeshift knot of her tank top, making sure it was secure. "So we're going to have to keep an eye on Chris to make sure Aaron doesn't try to kill him too?" She inquired, figuring that's what Fury meant when he said that Chris would need protection since he witnessed everything at the "ball".

Fury nodded and watched as she turned and headed away. "Oh yes, actually we won't need to keep an eye on him. Chris is coming here." Amelia stopped dead in her tracks and turned slowly.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Does it look like I'm kidding?" Amelia glanced at Fury's face and swallowed.

"Uh, no, sir," she stammered and turned again, quickly heading to her room. "Just don't bring the whole orphanage, okay? Or else Aaron won't have to worry about destroying S.H.I.E.L.D."

Once back in her room, Amelia browsed through the files on the pad once more, reading and absorbing the information. As she carried on with her research, Amelia discovered that Aaron was trained none other than by Loki, Thor's brother. She froze, eyes hovering over that piece of information. "And since Loki hates us, Aaron is going to avenge him and his dead mentor… that's just lovely." Sighing, Amelia shut it down and hid it under her pillow, placing her hands over her eyes in exasperation. "Something's going to happen soon," she mumbled, "Aaron never goes this long without causing trouble."

Just then, the alarm went off.


End file.
